


I'd like to die of love

by Vernisee



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is a Mess, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt No Comfort, Injured Jaskier | Dandelion, Internal Conflict, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, References to Depression, Sad Ending, Sad Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vernisee/pseuds/Vernisee
Summary: Have you ever wondered how would you like to live and die? Jaskier didn't, until it was too late. He was always preocupated with stories of others. And now he was lying on the cold ground, with his head smashed open, summing up his life. The only thing that can be said is that it wasn't a positive summary.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 161





	1. I'd like to die of love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I was feeling a little bit down today and this is the result. I decided to share it, but have in mind that this is my first work ever. Also, English isn't my native language, so the possibility of grammar mistakes is rather big.
> 
> The title as well as quoted lyrics belong to Myslovitz. They come from one of my favourite sad songs.  
> You can find it here, if you want to give it a try: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKvHg4GgG2c

Jaskier’s head was throbbing. It was almost as if he drank too much ale again. He would know the feeling, he got used to it during the last few months. His slow downfall has led him to this exact point, which with each passing minute seemed to be most likely the last point of his existence.

Jaskier didn’t know what to think of that thought. Should he be sad? Or maybe feel relieved? Instead, he felt completely numb. He stopped caring about what was going to happen to him after that day on the mountain top. What was the point, anyway? He spent his entire life looking for the purpose, for the goal that would have proved he has some value. He thought he had found it the day he set his eyes on the Witcher. He made it his mission to change the way people look at monster fighters like him. He thought he succeeded, and what is more important – he thought the Witcher appreciated his efforts. It's true, Geralt wasn't an effusive person, but small gestures were showing his devotion. They were friends.

Then he was proved wrong, as always. He was never enough for anyone. He should have listened to his father, when he was shouting he has no use of such a son. He should have listened to his teachers, when they were saying he is not talented enough. And he most definitely should have listened when Geralt told him that witchers work alone. He should have abandon his ridiculous dreams and live a life he was meant to live. Marry a girl father had chosen for him and conceive children, who with a bit of luck would be better than him. It wouldn’t be _his_ life, but maybe he would find some sort of happiness in it anyway. There was a chance he would have died surrounded by said children and not on the sidelines of a forest road.

„That’s a nonsense, I’m starting to lose my mind”, huffed Jaskier’s internal voice. The idea of him living in Lettenhove with a wife and a bunch of kids sounded absurdly. The truth was, he didn’t regret how he used the time he has been given in this world. Even if it meant being completely alone at the end.

Just like that, the lyrics of a long forgotten song came back to his mind. He wrote it heartbroken right after being forced to leave his home, not knowing what the future holds for him. He was lonely then as much as he was right now. So he started quietly humming in hope of finding some comfort in it.

_„The world has fell out of my hands,_

_Somehow I don't even feel any sorrow”_

That tavern in Posada over two decades ago was the reason he has forgotten that song. It got replaced by „Toss a coin”, filling him with a new energy. Jaskier could be a bright and happy himself again. It meant no more wondering about who he should be.

_„Do you know how would you like to live? Because I also..._

_Probably always wanted it that way, but...”_

But the mountain happened. And crushed the illusion he has been living in. Brought the question back. Who was he supposed to be? Without the Witcher his life meant nothing, so maybe it was actually a mercy it was ending in here. It was even a little bit poetic, when you omit the fact he got hurt while being mugged.

Jaskier shifted his head slightly, so he could have a better view on the stars. The movement was horribly painful, since the whole left side of his head got crashed on the rock. He could feel more of the hot liquid flowing down his neck. But the view was worth it. The sky was uncommonly clear, the stars blinking cheerfully with an unprecedented intensity. Such a beautiful night should be a fitting end of the story of a bard like him. His mother used to say everyone's life is written in the stars. He wondered if he had a place there too. It was a pleasant thought, meant that at least some trace will remain after him.

_„The wind blows, it smells of spring and I know_

_That you agreed to that so easily, and....”_

The breathing became more difficult. Suddenly, Jaskier felt a wave of panic. Dying felt real now, he could see shadows at the edge of his vision. Everything got blurred and it has taken him a moment to understand it was caused by tears.

„Geralt, please. I’m scared, I don’t want to die alone”, he sobbed quietly.

Naturally, Geralt didn’t answer his call. Who knew what the White Wolf was doing right now? Well, he was most likely sharpening his swords, while watching the flames of the fire he has built for the night somewhere on the other side of the Continent. Jaskier should have been there too, already asleep on his bedroll or strumming his lute... His lute. He quickly turned his head once more, which caused another wave of pain. It was lying right there, completely broken and useless like its owner. Jaskier stared at the instrument. He stretched out his hand with a clear effort and somehow managed to touch the closest piece of wood. If he couldn’t have Geralt holding his hand, at least he could die with the second most important thing in his life.

_„If I must and will be able to choose how to pass away,_

_Then I know well, I know well that...”_

He closed his eyes. He remembered when he asked Geralt that question. It was the summer evening and they just witnessed a mother following her son, who has been kidnapped by a drowner, into deep waters of some lake. Obviously, Geralt saved them both. When Jaskier aksed the woman why she decided to jump, she said she wanted to die together with the person she loves the most. Jaskier thought it was beautiful.

„And how would you like to die, Geralt?”, it was nudging him the whole way from the lake.

„Doesn’t matter”, Geralt gruffed after a while.

„Of course it does! The way you die is like a summary of your whole life!”, Jaskier swung his hands around, trying to emphasise what he means.

„Then I’m dying eaten by a monster”, if Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, there was a shadow of a smirk in Geralt’s voice.

„That’s outrageous! Your life is so much more than just a monster slaying! You... you are a hero, a protector, so you should die like one! Saving a village from the werewolf! Or... or a whole kingdom from the dragon! Taking fatal wounds, but still prevailing!”

Geralt didn’t continue that topic. He had let the bard make his own visions. He knew better than to get himself be caught in a discussion when Jaskier was clearly inspired. Now Jaskier wished Geralt has asked him the same question. Maybe it would change something, made him realise there was no great end of a life like his own.

_„Not on a chair, not in a dream,_

_Not in peace and not during the day,_

_Not easily, not in a hundred of years...”_

Why was he thinking about it right now, when he had no way of changing anything?

_„Not without pain and not at home,_

_I don’t want quickly and I don’t want young,_

_Not happily and among loved ones...”_

He is going to die of a blood loss abandoned on the roadside. Probably no one will ever know that. By the morning wild animals will drag his body deeper into the woods and throw a feast. He won’t even get a gravestone. Not that he needs one. It would quickly overgrow with grass anyway. It’s not like there is a single person out there, who would want to take care of it. Being a food for animals is probably the most useful thing Jaskier has ever done. So be it, but let it be over already.

He felt cold, and lost and scared. Despite everything, he didn’t deserve to suffer like that. Why couldn’t he just hit that stone and lost consciousness once and for all? The longer he was lying there, the louder the answer echoed in his head. Even though said head felt lighter and lighter.

„How would you like to die, Jaskier?”, he imagined Geralt asking.

_„I’d like to die of love”._

Is that a horse's hoof beat? Or the mourning drums? Jaskier couldn’t tell. But there was some kind of a noise. He felt resignation. Couldn’t animals wait a little bit longer? Must they make him suffer more? Another moment and his body will be theirs, he will go away.

„Jaskier?”, a quiet hesitant voice. And then a much louder one. „Jaskier, wake up!”.

He managed to lift his eyelids slightly. The yellow eyes of a wolf were staring at him with dread. Funny, why would a wolf looked so terrified? And somehow those eyes looked so much like Geralt’s. He smiled tiredly. He can be taken by a wolf, he decided. it was fitting.

„Jaskier, stay awake!”, the voice insisted.

_„I’d like to die at your side”,_ it was his last conscious thought.


	2. The length of the sound of solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier thought he is truly alone in this world and that those yellow eyes he saw at the end were simply a creation of his tired mind. But we all know there is that one guilty Witcher who just won't let Jaskier go like that.

Geralt was a fucking moron. He realised that the minute he found himself in the empty camp at the base of the mountain. Jaskier’s belongings disappeard from Roach’s saddlebag, which could only mean one thing. Jaskier has left. And Geralt had the unpleasant feeling he won’t be coming back this time around.

It was a strange realisation. Jaskier was the only constant in his life. Even when they parted on wrong foot, Jaskier has been coming back like a boomerang a few weeks later, chatting endlessly like nothing has happened at all. Geralt would never admit it, but it was making him all warm inside. Instead, when they have been meeting again, he was usually grunting his greetings, throwing a bag with supplices at the bard and then making sure to build a fire big enough to keep Jaskier warm the whole night.

Geralt managed to fool himself that the bard will make his reappearance again for whole four weeks. Then the silence he so much wished for became unbearable, so he decided it is his turn to follow Jaskier. How difficult it could be to find a man who wears bright clothes, is extremely loud and bothers practically everyone he meets? It had to be way easier than finding a gloomy witcher and yet Jaskier has never had any problems with that. So, he would find the bard, promise him another adventure to write a song about, maybe even give him some details about some monsters and then they will continue their partnership.

It was a good plan. However, Geralt did not include in it the possibility of Jaskier being damn good at being elusive. He has been trying to catch up with the bard for months now. Chasing the man all around the Continent was slowly making him feel like an idiot. But everytime he was promising himself that this is the last lead he checks and then he will simply continue to walk the Path, he saw Jaskier sitting at their camp, strumming his lute and lazily composing a new song. And he just couldn’t give up.

_„And even left alone one day,_

_Ain’t gonna change,_

_It’s not my world,_

_Ahead of me there’s a road I know,_

_The one I chose myself to go”_

Jaskier has been trying to convince him that the song is about the loneliness of the life of witchers. About their long and sad lifes away from joy and love. That it was a way to make people think deeper about it and maybe to make them take an action to change that.

„That road is your Path, obviously!”, Jaskier said one time. „I really can’t believe you can’t see through these metaphors, Geralt. You are so different from all the people living around you that it’s clearny not your world. The life of a peasant, or a noble, or even a king’s – they are all strange to you! And yet, you are not going to try to adapt to them...”

Geralt stopped listening to his rambling then. He had a pretty good idea who that song was about. But trying to chat the master of words up didn’t make any sense. Jaskier was good at twisting the meaning of his own words. And Geralt obviously had very poor oratory skills. So he just grunted in acknowledge of the bard's explanation. But the truth was, he didn’t like what was hidden behind the lyrics.

_„Yeah, perfect forever, always clever_

_Should I be and I should feel_

_Super cool and then I am a fool_

_And then it’s not me”_

Jaskier never told him about his past, but to be honest, Geralt has never asked. Two decades have been enough to came up with a conclusion that Jaskier had no one close, though. Jaskier knew plenty of people, he was invited to plenty of royal courts and banquets, people in taverns considered him a true personality, but Geralt has never seen Jaskier sharing something personal with any of them.

_„See, I like the evenings,_

_I like to get hidden for quite sometime,_

_And yet, I like against my nature and with onstentation_

_To stay alone,_

_Climb to a tree top_

_And keep looking skyward”_

Maybe it was a time to get to know the bard better? To look behind that mask of always smiling singer... Well, once he finds his bard, he will take care of everything. Because with each passing week Geralt was realizing more and more that he wanted to be that person Jaskier speaks personal things to.

_„But I know that right here,_

_For another time,_

_I can’t be who I want to be”_

Geralt had a hope it is not too late to become that person. Though, he would’t be surprised if the bard throws his efforts right back at his face, just like Geralt threw Jaskier’s at his. He hid himself behind being a witcher, as if that was enough to explain his gloomy personality. The truth was, that excuse was simply convenient, it meant he did’t need to work on himself. If someone didn’t like it, they could go away. Well, most of them. As it appeared, all of them but one. Geralt has never thought there could be someone like that. And now he had to make sure his personality won’t chase that person away for good. He had to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

That determination led him to the tavern in some shitty village. Few days ago he heard Jaskier was on the road, which goes through that settlement. He kept his ears open to the sounds of the lute, but they did not come. The interior of the inn was dark and dull, as was the whole neighbourhood. Geralt wondered why Jaskier would choose to travel this way. However, he decided to come over to the innkeeper.

„The bard. Tall, brown hair, blue eyes. Possibly wearing something colorful. Have you seen him?”, he simply asked.

„No bards in here, Witcher”, the innkeeper didn’t even bother to look at him while speaking. Geralt made an annoyed sound and was turning on his heels, when the girl from behind the counter joined the conversation.

„Well, there was that one man with a lute, though.”

„When?”, that statement certainly caught Geralt’s attention.

„He left a while ago. He drank some ale and asked for a room for the night, but soon it turned out he has no money. Wanted to bribe us with his singing, but dad here called him a trickster and a liar, because the man was clearly wearing silk clothes. So dad kicked him out”, the girl shrugged.

Geralt’s slow heart skipped a beat or two.

„You threw him out into the night after pointing out his possibly wealthy origin?”, that didn’t sound good. He was furious and really wanted to rip that man’s head of, but there were more important matters right now. Like finding his bard before he gets himself in troubles again.

„Well, what else was I supposed to do? He wanted to rob me...”, but Geralt was already out of the tavern and on Roach, hurrying her in the opposite direction from which they came from.

_„Night, during the night I'm awake to_

_I go out though I hate it_

_To look at this chemical world”_

After riding for about an hour he felt even more anxious. It was already getting dark when he came to the inn and now it was full darkness. He expected to run into Jaskier setting up a camp of some sort not too far from the tavern. The fact he didn’t meant that the fool decided to travel during the night. He decided to do the one thing Geralt repeated him countless times not to do. The noise of footsteps always attracts creatures and Jaskier can see a shit in such a darkness. So now not only bandids were a threat to him.

He felt annoyed. Wanted to knock some sense into the bard. And that was when he felt it. The faint smell of blood piercing the crisp air. Alarm ranged loudly inside his head. It didn’t mean anything yet, but there was that awful feeling of wrongness...

Which only increased when he realised that there was a scent of chamomile underneath the thickness of blood. His stomach dropped. It took him a moment to shake off the paralizing feeling and rush forward. Sure enough, there was a lonely figure lying at the side of the road.

„Jaskier?”, he asked quietly, his voice wavering, hanging onto the shreds of hope that this was someone else.

That hope was in vain. The man was in green silks and Geralt in his entire life only met one person who liked to wear such clothes. He dropped to his knees next to the bard. Jaskier’s eyes were closed and there was a terrifying wound on the side of his head. It looked like a split nut dripping in blood. But his bard was breathing, with an obvious difficulty, but still... There was a chance for as long as Jaskier was taking those shallow breaths.

„Jaskier, wake up!”, he shooked the bard gently.

There was a flutter of the eyelids and Geralt was graced with a sight of blue irises. Relief lasted only a second before the Witcher realized that Jaskier did not seem to register the reality around him. His gaze was passing right through him with no trace of recognition. And then the fool smiled weakly, his eyes shooting close again.

„Jaskier, stay awake!”, Geralt called with pure desperation.

Suddenly, the night turned icy. The air was stuffy and filled with a scent he hated with all of his heart. The scent of upcoming death.

_„Smelling like grayness,_

_Like paper love sadness_

_With you and me.... and someone else...”_

Jaskier was floating away and Geralt couldn’t do anything about it. For the first time in his entire life, he felt completely helpless. He won’t be able to apologize, he won’t be able to fix things... He will never see that wide smile and sparkling eyes again. All he could do was simply be there and hold Jaskier’s hand.

In that very moment Geralt found out how incredibly long can be the sound of the solitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided that after showing things from Jaskier's point of view, it's only fair to give the Witcher a leading role for a while too. Let me know what you think :)
> 
> The chapter's title as well as the lyrics once again comes from Myslovitz.


End file.
